Thoughts in The Night
by ryouko70
Summary: Just some chapters focusing on the nighttime thoughts of some of the main characters. Each chapter will feature a different character. These follow more of the comic world. No slash, but you can read into them what you want.
1. Walter

**This is the first in a series of five chapters. Each chapter will feature one of the characters. The exception will be Jon, as he doesn't really see time the way every one else does, and probably doesn't perceive night. If I do come up with something for him, it'll be the very last chapter. But in the meantime, enjoy.**

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He quietly slipped through the window and landed lightly on the floor. He shut the window and locked it. He'd have to talk to Daniel about leaving windows unlocked. He moved toward the stairs, keeping an ear out for any sounds that indicated that Daniel was awake. He slowly made his way up; stepping only on the edge of each step to avoid squeaking. He didn't want to wake Daniel. Didn't want to have to explain why he was in his partner's house during "off hours".

He opened the bedroom door just enough to slip through. Daniel was still asleep, lying on his stomach, face turned toward him. He looked so peaceful sleeping. Walter vaguely wondered if he looked that peaceful when he slept. Somehow, he doubted it. He crept closer to the bed, his footfalls softened by the carpet. He took off his mask and stared down at the sleeping man. He knew it was dangerous to make himself this exposed, but it was dark in the room. If Daniel woke, there would be enough time to get the mask back on before Daniel could turn the light on.

Walter looked around the room. Street lights bleeding in from around the curtains lightened the room just enough to make out some things. It was a much nicer room than his, but that was hardly surprising. Daniel had money and this place had been left to him by his parents. He didn't begrudge Daniel his fortunate life because Daniel never lorded it over him. Daniel was humble and didn't think he was better than anyone else. And most importantly, he didn't give into the hedonistic lifestyle of other people born into money.

He looked back down at Daniel. _Daniel._ For the three or four months they had been working together he had only been Nite Owl. Then a couple of weeks ago, when they had arrived back at the Owlnest, Nite Owl took his cowl off and said his name was Daniel Dreiberg. "But you can called me 'Dan' if you like." He didn't know what to make of that, or the hand that had been offered. So instead, he had rebuked him for compromising his identity. The smile dropped and he was surprised that it caused a tightness in his chest. He felt uncomfortable to have caused Daniel (No! Nite Owl!) pain. He felt shaken by the look of hurt in Daniel (Nite Owl!)'s eyes. Confused and frightened by this feeling, he turned on his heel and all but ran down the tunnel. He didn't come back. Till now.

Walter squatted down next to the bed, arms folded over his knees. He rested his chin on his arms and looked up at Daniel(he couldn't think of him as anything but "Daniel" now). He swore that he wouldn't come back here. But Walter couldn't stay away. There had been strong ache in his chest that drove him to return. He really didn't understand this feeling. It wasn't lust. He was familiar enough with it to know that what he felt wasn't something physical. It was something deeper. It was a need. But a need for what? Again, nothing physical. He hated being touched. Touching meant lust. Touching meant pain. No, this need was something different.

His eyes drifted away from the sleeping figure as he thought back to that night, seeing if the answer was there. He remembered the smile as Daniel revealed himself. It was a genuine smile. A smile that was echoed in his warm, brown eyes. _Like my own, but softer_. Most people's smiles never reached their eyes when they looked at Walter. They only gave fake smiles, if they smiled at all. This was the first time someone actually smiled at Walter. It gave him a strange feeling inside. Warm, as if someone had pressed a hot water bottle against his chest. Why did he feel that way simply because Daniel smiled at him?

Well, he should be honest with himself. Daniel wasn't smiling at Walter. He was smiling at Rorschach. He doubted Daniel would like Walter. Walter was weak, ugly, contaminated. But Rorschach was strong, unafraid, free from the vices of the world. But even then, Daniel was better than him. Daniel was pure and good. He was naïve and innocent. He was trusting. He was...well, everything that Walter/Rorschach was not.

Maybe that was it. Daniel was a good man with a pure heart. Unlike the other masks that he had been hearing about, Daniel wasn't in it for the media attention. Like Rorschach, he wanted to help the weak. Protect those who couldn't protect themselves, and punish those who needed to be punished. That was what first drew him to Nite Owl and made him become his partner. But now it was something more, something stronger that kept him by this man's side.

He stood and once again stared down at the sleeping man. He suddenly wondered if his skin was soft. Daniel had the soft heart of a child, surely his skin had the same softness. He took off a glove and reached out. His fingers hovered over Daniel's cheek, slowly tracing their way along his jaw. But he didn't touch Daniel. He couldn't. For one thing, he knew that would wake Daniel. And for another, he could never touch Daniel with his ungloved hands. With Walter's filthy hands. To touch something so pure, so innocent, would be to corrupt it. And he couldn't bear the thought of sullying Daniel. Though a small part of him wondered if touching something pure would purify him. If touching Daniel would wipe his own soul clean.

He pulled his hand back sharply to keep from giving into the temptation. To further keep the urge at bay, he yanked the glove back onto his hand and pulled the mask back over his head. Shaken, he took deep, steady breaths. He could see the colors of the mask swirling frantically. He didn't know why his heart was beating so hard against his ribs. For a moment, he had the irrational fear that Daniel would hear his heart pounding.

He softly backed away from the bed and slipped through the door, quietly closing it behind him. He retreated down the stairs, once again only stepping on the edges. He unlocked the window and crawled back out, dropping lightly to the ground. He stepped back and looked up at the bedroom window. He could still feel the ache in his chest, but it was much less than it had been over the last couple of weeks. Seeing Daniel again eased him and he felt strangely lighter.

He still didn't understand why he needed Daniel. He only knew that the need he felt was vile. Even if it wasn't a physical need, it was wrong. Need came from weakness and he couldn't afford to be weak. Weak got you killed. He had never needed anyone, not since he was a small child. This need for Daniel terrified and disgusted him, but he couldn't walk away. He couldn't leave the one person who had become the most important thing in his life. It would take something much stronger than he was to drive him away. Only betrayal could make him leave, and Daniel would surely never betray him.


	2. Dan

The patrol was a rough one tonight. Dan lost count of how many they took down and left for the cops. It left them both rather worn out. Rorschach sat on the couch, while Dan busied himself in the kitchen, making coffee and sandwiches. He filled two cups and set them on a tray, along with a rather large mound of sugar cubes. He set the plates next to the cups.

He carried the tray into the living room and was about the say something when he noticed that Rorschach was curled up in a ball on the couch, breathing softly. He had been staying after patrol more often over the past year. He usually slept a few hours on the couch and then was off to...wherever it was that he went. Dan guessed that his partner had a job. He knew the man lived somewhere and therefore had to make money to pay the rent.

He sighed as he set the tray down on the coffee table. He grabbed one of the plates and cups for himself, leaving the rest on the tray. They had now been partners for four years and the only thing he knew (other than Rorschach was _extremely_ justice-minded) was that they were five years apart in age. And that was something that Rorschach accidentally let slip shortly after they met.

Dan sat in the chair and ate while he watched Rorschach sleep. He had to admit, he found his partner rather fascinating. Nothing sparked human curiosity like the unknown. And nothing was more unknown than Rorschach. The man was an enigma, tightly wrapped up in wool and leather.

"Tight" was a good word for Rorschach. Even in a relaxed state, he was coiled tighter than an over-wound watch. He never touched Dan, not even to shake hands (which Dan learned rather painfully). He just barely tolerated a hand on the shoulder or a light pat on the back. Dan could see Rorschach's hands momentarily ball up into fists whenever Dan touched him. And even after he relaxed his fists, he was still tense till Dan removed his hand. Dan couldn't understand why his partner seemed to always think Dan was going to attack him.

He still remembered when he first revealed himself to Rorschach. He wanted to show him how much he trusted him. How much their partnership meant to him. The man was silent for a minute and then just lost it. Started yelling at him about compromising his identity and how naïve he was to be so trusting. He was hurt by the words, but even more so when Rorschach left and didn't come back for a few weeks. When he finally showed up again, he said, "apologies, Daniel. Shouldn't have yelled at you." And since then, he had called him "Daniel" whenever they were alone.

After a few months of being called "Daniel", he finally had to ask Rorschach, "why don't you call me 'Dan', like everyone else?"

Rorschach turned at looked at him. Dan watched the black and white marks dance lazily around his partner's face. A few minutes passed before Rorschach finally spoke. "Not like everyone else."

Dan had come to like it. It seemed as if being called "Daniel" created a special bond between them. Like the bond he had with Hollis Mason, who was the only person to call him "Danny". The two people who were closest to him called him by a name that no one else did. It felt...warm. He wondered if other people felt this kind of happy warmth in their chest.

He snapped out of his reverie and looked again at Rorschach. The man was curled up on his side, with the hands clenched in front of his face. He always slept like that. Dan felt saddened that his partner didn't feel safe in his home. But lately, he pulled his mask up to the bridge of his nose. It wasn't much, but Dan would take any small bit of trust he could get. He couldn't help but wonder what made Rorschach so distrustful of others. Why did he pull away from any kind of human contact?

A thought came to him. He remembered reading that a person's mother developed their emotional state...or something like that. His own mother was a kind, nurturing woman and Dan reflected those traits. If what he read was true, how was Rorschach treated by his mother? Was she abusive? Was he even raised by his mother? Was it the lack of a mother's love that made Rorschach so emotionally stunted? Dan couldn't imagine what it would be like to not have a mother to love, comfort, and protect you. To tend you when you were sick. To read you bedtime stories. To hold you when you were hurt or scared. How awful it would be to not know that you were loved.

Dan watched Rorschach for a while longer and then sighed again. Well, it looked like the sleeping man wasn't going to wake up anytime soon. Dan grabbed a blanket and tossed it over Rorschach, quickly and gently tucking it around him. He'd leave the coffee and sandwich for when his partner woke up. On impulse, Dan bent over and kissed what he guessed was Rorschach's temple. It was something his own mom would do after she tucked him in bed at night. He moved away from the couch and had only walked a couple of steps when he heard a soft, "mother?" from behind him.

He turned and looked back at the couch, but with the mask it was hard to tell if Rorschach was awake or not. He saw no movement and there were no other sounds. He tentatively said, "Rorschach?", but there was no response. Maybe it was just his imagination. Maybe he heard the word because he was thinking about his own mother. He shook his head and headed upstairs to his own bed.

After he was gone, a gloved hand came up and gently touch the spot that Dan had kissed. It lingered there a moment before a quiet voice murmured, "Daniel". The hand dropped back down.


	3. Eddie

Eddie walked into his apartment and slumped onto the couch. The banquet had gone very well, until he came face to face with Laurie. God, she looked just like Sally when she was that age! And she had her mother's temper too. She brought up the attempted rape and threw her drink in his face. The blue man took her away shortly after that. He never got a chance to explain to her. Never got to tell her the truth.

Yeah, he had once attempted to rape Sally. But he couldn't help himself. He was young, pig-headed, and absolutely crazy for the woman. The only difference between then and now was that he was no longer young. And in his older years he knew that his only regret was losing Sally. _Can you actually lose someone you never had?_

Well, technically, he "had" her for one night. What-his-name...Larry was out of town. It seemed that he and Sally had some kind of argument just before he left "on business". She called Eddie up and he came over. He hadn't intended on anything to happen. He hadn't even tried to touch her since that one day. But she seemed so sad, so lonely. Apparently, it was only a marriage of convenience(though he couldn't tell whose). Larry rarely touched her. Never told her that he loved her.

"What if I told you that I loved you," He'd asked her.

She gave a sad little laugh, and halfheartedly slapped him on the arm. "Oh, Eddie. Don't tease me like that."

He pulled her to him. "I'm not teasing, baby." He gently stroked her hair and felt her relax into him. He wanted her so badly, but didn't dare make a move. He didn't want to do anything that'd drive her away. But she was the one who initiated the kiss. Things progressed quickly from there. It wasn't the hot and heavy action of other girls he'd been with. It wasn't the desperate need of that day he'd never live down. It was gentle and loving and like nothing he experienced before or since. Afterwards, they fell asleep in each other's arms. For once in his life, Eddie felt truly happy.

Then it all fell apart. The next morning, Sally went on a guilt trip and accused him of taking advantage of her. She was in tears as she threw his clothes at him and he barely had time to dress before she kicked him out of the house. He didn't see her for another three years. And when he did, she had a small girl with her. A girl with the same colored eyes as her mother. A pretty little girl named Laurel Jane. A little girl that could have been his, if things had turned out better.

"You and Larry must be very happy," he said, trying not to let the pain show.

"Larry is not happy at all," Sally growled.

"But she's such a pretty little thing. How could he not be happy?"

"Because she's not his," she hissed. At his confused look, she added, "is that hair color mine? Or Larry's? No."

Her hair color? He looked at the child again. Reddish brown hair. Like...his. His. He looked at Sally in surprised. She barked a laugh. "Yes, she's yours, Eddie." He felt joy and pride swell up in his chest. That little girl _was_ his! "That's the price of my mistake."

Eddie felt his heart drop into his stomach at those words. She thought that night was a mistake? She thought the child they created was a mistake? Those words cut deeply into him. Words that came back often. On a night many years later, he'd look at a woman in 'Nam who was carrying his child and think "it's a mistake" before shooting the woman dead. A mistake, like all the other mistakes he had made in his messed up life.

But she wasn't a mistake. No, his little girl would never be a mistake. He couldn't love a mistake and he loved Laurie as much as he loved her mother. But he'd never be able to tell her that. He'd never be able to tell Laurie that she was his and that she meant everything to him. No. Not when she hated him so much. They'd all go to their graves without her ever knowing the truth. The truth would probably only cause her more pain. And he couldn't bear to cause his baby girl pain. Eddie sighed.

He needed a drink.

 **Not really all that happy with this chapter, but it's not easy to write Eddie as anything other than a smug prick. :/**


	4. Adrian

It was dark. He didn't know where he was. He seemed to be running through a maze of alleyways. It kind of reminded him of his days as a masked vigilante when he ran down alleyways chasing criminals. Only this time, he was the one being chased. He could hear the cries of the mob behind him. The fact that they were carrying pitchforks and flaming torches would be extremely funny if he wasn't so terrified.

"Nothing ever ends." Jon's last words echoed in his head as he ran helter skelter through the alleyways. He could swear he heard the Comedian's laugh bouncing off the walls. Somehow he managed to run faster.

He turned another corner and hit a dead end. In front of him sat a pile of corpses. On top of the pile sat a red-haired man in a green suit. A "The End is Nigh" sign was planted into the pile of bodies like some kind of perverse flag. The red-haired man stared at him, emotionless. In a rough voice he said, "time to pay for what you did, Veidt."

Arms grabbed him from behind (he never even heard the mob arrive). The smell of cigars and the chuckling in his ear told him who it was. "Looks like I get the last laugh after all, Ozzy." He felt cold steel against his neck.

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He woke in a cold sweat. He reached down to pet Bubastis, but didn't feel her there. It was only after he looked over the edge of his bed that he remembered she was no longer there. He swung his legs over the bed and sat up. He felt exhausted. For the past couple of months, he'd been having the same dream. The mob, the bodies, Rorschach, The Comedian. And he always woke up when the cold steel touched his neck.

The one year anniversary of that day was coming up. He tried to rationalize the dream; tried to tell himself that it was because of that day. That guilt was bringing up those images. After all, dreams were just the mind sorting through thoughts and memories. Like a computer.

But it didn't matter how many times he told himself this. That dream still came and it still terrified him. He had heard people talk of prophetic dreams, but this dream couldn't be one of those. Two of the people were dead! There was no way they could come back for him. Yet...he could still be found out, couldn't he? "The best laid plans of mice and men" as the poem went. He was able to quash any rumor and "conspiracy theory" that came up, but for how long?

He walked into the main room and looked at the rows of TV sets. He still kept them running all day, every day. There were stories on the news and talk shows about what they were calling "Unification Day". He liked the sound of that. Liked that he was the one who brought that around. Brought the world together when it was on the brink of war.

But at such a cost! All those lives. He remembered every one. All the faces they showed on TV of the lives that were lost on that day. All the people who died so that he could achieve his goal. But there were two faces that were never shown. Two faces people would never remember, except for a very small few. But really, did it matter?

A small, quiet voice said, "yes".

Adrian spun around to see that no one was there. It must have been an internal voice, but why did it sound like Dan? He shook his head and gave a strained little chuckle. Of course, no one was here! The screens that showed the external cameras showed nothing for miles! Besides, who'd come all the way to Karnak? Silly to think, even for a second, that Dan was there. His sources told him that Dan and Laurie were hiding in California under the pseudonyms of Sam and Sandra Hollis. _Such obvious names really. How could anyone be fooled by them?_

He gave a slightly less strained chuckle. Did they really think he would come after them? Even if they came out with the truth, who would ever believe them? No one believed Rorschach. If they ever decided to tell people the truth about that day, he'd simply destroy them in front of the whole world. Like he had done to Jon. He could easily make people believe that they were completely crazy, like Rorschach had been.

He looked at the external camera screens and froze when he was a dark figure wearing a fedora. _"time to pay for what you did, Veidt."_ No no! That couldn't be! The man died! He had seen the blood stain on the snow! He had found the mask; the black ink permanently frozen. He kept it locked in a drawer, even though he knew the owner would never return for it.

But now...what if? He ran to his office and fumbled with the key before finally unlocking the drawer. He opened it and breathed a sign of relief to see the black and white mask still sitting there. He took it out and began stroking the material. He spoke softly and soothingly to it. "I didn't want you to die. But you had to. I couldn't have you telling everyone what had happened. I just couldn't. I'm sure you understand. Besides, the world no longer needed you. It hadn't needed you in decades. Surely you knew that. Isn't that why you chose to die?"

The black spots on the mask moved slightly. He gasped and dropped the mask. For several long moments he stared at the mask, terrified that its owner had returned after all. But the spots had stopped moving. _Of course! The material responded to heat and pressure._ He gave another nervous giggle. He picked up the mask again. Silly to think that a dead man could return. But Jon had returned. _No, Jon was a special case._

He left the room holding the mask loosely in his hand. As he walked down the hallway he wondered vaguely where Bubastis had wandered off to. When did he last see her? Well no matter. She'd show up when she was hungry.

He returned to the main room and looked at the feed from the external cameras. There was the figure, though now he could see that it was not a person. It was some formation. Rocks or ice or something. How could he have ever mistaken it for Rorschach? The man was dead and never coming back.

He sat in his chair and stared at the screens for a while. Reaching out a hand, he began the pet the air.

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 **Sorry for the delay. I was having problems with this chapter. I was trying to show Veidt slowly going insane from the guilt. I hope that came through.**

 **One more chapter that I'll be posting that within the next few days.**


	5. Laurie

She woke when he started mumbling and becoming restless in his sleep. The nightmares usually came around the anniversary of "Unification Day". It bothered her that he was still so troubled by it. She stood among the bodies and saw first-hand what the devastation looked like. Those were images she could never erase from her mind. But even so, she didn't have the nightmares; not like he did.

On the flight back from Karnak, he had cried over the fact that he and Rorschach had been too late. They had tried so hard and failed. And that failure cost the lives of millions. How did one get over that? Then added to that, they couldn't find Jon or Rorschach. Both were gone by the time they woke up. She thought that upset him the most. He had told her that they were finally making a connection again. He had hoped that they could form a friendship. He was greatly hurt that Rorschach left without a word.

There had been notices up everywhere after the event. Those who survived were trying to get in touch with their family and friends. Since the phone lines were down for the better part of a month, notice boards were put up. They went to the ones closest to where Dan had lived and left a coded message. It was simply a crudely drawn owl with the words, "looking for you." Every day for a month, they went back to that board to see if there was any response. To see if he left his mark, .][. But there had been no word.

They had expected to hear something. Rorschach had threatened to expose the truth. But there had been nothing, with the exception of some conspiracy ranting in some extreme Right-Wing publication. Only the extremist nut-jobs seemed to believe it. The rest of the world did not. After all, what normal person believed those government cover-ups anyway?

After that month of moving from hotel to hotel under different names, they finally left New York. They decided to move out to California to be near Laurie's mom. The poor woman had been quite upset to find out that Hollis had been murdered right after she had spoken to him. She said that only she and Byron were left of the "old gang". But having her daughter back, and a son-in-law to boot, helped to keep her from becoming too saddened by it all.

They had gone back to New York a few times to search for Rorschach, but were never able to find him. People still told stories about seeing him around, but it was never the person they talked to. It was always, "a friend of a friend's cousin who knew a guy who saw him." They hadn't seen Jon since Karnak, so they couldn't ask him where he took Rorschach. Laurie couldn't image that Jon took him to Mars or someplace odd like that.

She sometimes wondered if he had died. He was ten years older than she was and even though she still worked out, she knew she didn't move as fast or smoothly as she did when she was younger. Surely, his age would have caught up with him and he'd meet someone he couldn't beat. He had to be dead or else he would have made his presence known by now. But she never had to heart to say this to Dan. He still held out hope that they would find his former partner and friend again.

Honestly, she was glad they never found him. She hated that creepy little man. She could never understand what Dan saw in him. What could he possibly see in that socio-path that would make him put up with the unpleasantness. The _smell_! She was sure that Rorschach didn't know what soap looked like. And he was probably convinced that he'd explode if he was ever actually nice to someone. She knew she shouldn't think bad things about the dead (and she was certain the bastard was dead), but...well...screw him! She hoped he was burning in hell.

But these were words she could never say. As much as she hated Rorschach, she knew Dan loved him. Not in _that_ way. Well...she didn't think he did. She looked at Dan for a moment, brushing some stray hairs out of his face. Suddenly she chuckled. _I better be careful, or I'll becomes as paranoid as Rorschach was._ Dan suddenly cried out in his sleep. She lightly stroked his face and talked softly to him. After a moment he seemed to calm down and finally move into a deeper sleep.

And she was wide awake. She carefully slid out of bed and made her way to the living room. She opened the back door and stepped out onto the deck. She lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. Dan hated it when she smoked, so she came out here for the occasional smoke. She only smoked when she was upset. Or when she couldn't sleep.

She leaned against the house and looked at the stars. She liked being able to see the stars. You couldn't see them very well in New York City. Too many tall buildings. Too many bright lights. But here, you could see them. Her cigarette was done, but she didn't move. She didn't want to. She just wanted to enjoy the quiet, the stillness. She gazed at the stars, and felt content.

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 **I usually prefer to follow the comics for my stories. So I went with the thought that they didn't know what happened to Rorschach and were too upset to notice the mark in the snow. At this time I have no plans for a Jon story. So with that, I hope you enjoyed this! Thanks for reading!**


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